There's a gigantic fly buzzing around the basement at work, flying around aimlessly and behaving like an idiot. For some reason I always expect the bugs of springtime to be confused and stupid and the bugs of autumn to have gained some kind of wisdom, learned from their forebears, have seen or at least heard of the mistakes that their June generations have made, and vowed to do better. This is another reason to be frightened of wasps. There's always a few buzzing around in early summer, but come September the superior armadas of waspdom are out in force, full of venom, malice and three month's worth of intel on the habits of humans. As a necessary aside let me mention that wasps exist for one purpose only: to sting people. To terrorize, bother and sting people. And by people I actually mean me, since I'm pretty sure that I've been stung by more often by wasps than anyone else I know (I also get stuck in elevators frequently. Anyone care to explain that?). I don't know why the stinger-stingee ratio is so unbalanced in my case; It's not as if I'm a wasp wrangler or hive puncher. I'm just a guy trying to get along in this envenomed world, a guy who minds his own business, obeys traffic signals, eats with an eye to reducing blood cholesterol levels (see previous) and gets stung every summer or two. Lucky you, though: you can benefit from my experience and learn

HOW TO GET STUNG AND HURT LIKE A MOTHERFUCKER

1. For kindergarten kids: get on a swing. Swing up and down. Have a friend push you for the added pleasure and height. Sooner or later a wasp will sting you on the forehead.

2. For 8 year olds: Ride your bike. Ride down the middle of the street. Fast! Faster! Concentrate! A wasp will sting you twice on the thumb and leave, its business done.

3. For concerned older brothers: Wasps have built their nest underneath the patio steps. Don't let your baby brother climb down the three steps to the lawn! Cradle him in your arms and leap over the steps to the grass below, making him gurgle with delight. Take ten steps and put him down, the better to scream when the wasp stings your ankle.

4. For the budding activist: Go to the protest in the park. Talk to friends, have a smoke, wait for the police to arrive. Look at the back of your hand. A wasp has stung it.

5. For the smartly dressed: Wear a cranberry red shirt. It makes your skin and lips glow. Take a walk to the bank and absently pluck off that thing clinging to your shirt. Roll the thing in your fingers. Take a quick detour to the pharmacy, because the thing on your shirt was a wasp and now your hand is going to swell up like a burning Mickey Mouse glove if you don't take some antihistamines quick.

These are five small lessons, a brief selection from a lifetime's worth. I have no lessons to offer on those nightmares you hear about in which some kid hides under a picnic table and gets three dozen stings from the uneighbourly wasps who make their homes there. Nor can I give you helpful tips on dropping over dead from anaphylactic shock and asphyxiation. Remind me to give you some hints on how to get stuck in an elevator that everybody else rides a million times a day and never gets stuck in, and are you sure you weren't jumping around?

parode - exode